APOLLONIA

Thirteen

Andronicus' head ached as he processed the story he had just been told. He looked at his beloved neice and his heart broke when he realized what could have happened to her if things had not worked so perfectly. Quickly, he ushered her to a desolate corner and commanded her to stay put. "I must fix this. Carthage's soldiers do not belong on Roman soil." He turned and ran back to the slave market. 'Carthaginian fools!' He thought as he snuck behind a pillar to avoid being seen. 'They have tangled with the wrong man!' He ran up a stone stairway to a higher level where a guard watchtower stood. Outside the door was a tall, burly guard. Andronicus shouted to get his attention. The armored man listened attentively as he was given specific instructions. Andronicus whispered his last command, the guard took along two more guards, and Andronicus led them down the stairs to the slave market. The slaves were almost all sold. They were just in time. Giving his signal to the guards, Andronicus cried out. "Halt! Carthaginians!" As his words echoed through the square, the people paused in confusion before running in fear. The guards ambushed the bandits, immediately knocking three mercenaries to the ground. Five more slave traders, who were now grabbing their weapons and ready for a fight. Wiping a stream of blood from his bottom lip, the leader pulled himself to his feet. In the midst of the chaos, the group of city guards from within the watchtower piled down the stairs and rounded the corner with their short swords in their hands. Through the malice and wrath, Andronicus dodged the stabbing and swinging and slithered out of the battle. Hiding behind a statue, he watched the guards bring the Carthaginian filth down. In the corner of his eye, he saw a blue-clad painted-faced mercenary snaking out of the fight. His eyes were locked on something. Looking in that direction, Andronicus' heart leaped into his throat. Peeking out from behind a wall was the sweet, fearful face of his neice. The bandit was advancing towards her hiding place. Unflinchingly, Andronicus shuffled hurridly around the battling men. Pausing breifly to shake a sword out of a slave trader's hand, he ran to face his enemy. The mercenary was startled by Andronicus' sword smacking his shoulder armor. After the blow, Andronicus stood in front of Apollonia and raised his sword to the man, who wiped some pale paint from his eyes to reveal dark skin while chuckling and looking up and down at his opponet. Andronicus knew he probably looked ridiculous in his long robes with a sword, but he did not care at the moment. Taking advantage of the circumstance, Andronicus lifted his sword and brought it down in a hard blow, aimed at his enemy's head. The bandit had enough wit to move in time, but not enough to escape injury. The sword sliced into his collarbone and he screamed loudly before he fell to the ground and lay there crying and holding the wound. The Carthaginians were all caught and they were all put to death later that night. By then, Andronicus had taken Apollonia home, given her food and she had gone to bed. He stayed up late after his children and wife fell asleep. He kept pondering all that had happened that day. After an hour or so, he became drowsy and went to sleep.